


Please Be Naked

by Mapofmyhead



Category: The 1975 (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, George has problems too, M/M, Matty has problems, Matty is George's main problem, One Shot, Sex, a bit of angst, alternative universe, just mentioned, suppressed emotions, they are both idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 19:49:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8414335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mapofmyhead/pseuds/Mapofmyhead
Summary: With every step closer to his building, to home, a voice inside his head is becoming louder, chanting the mantra 
 
Please be naked, please be naked, please be naked.





	

His feet push him forward of their own accord, his fingers are numb from the cold as they bring the cigarette to his mouth to inhale deeply and his lungs burn. This has been a long time coming; he’s been seeing things taking an ugly turn, he’s seen it but didn’t know how to stop it, and now he finally panics. They have been drawing apart for weeks and they have both been under the illusion that they’ve been closer than ever because of the new added dynamic to their relationship, at least George was under the impression they were, but in reality, they are worlds apart.

 

George thinks he can pinpoint the time around when the change occurred; a night some time ago when Matty came home from work. Something during those hours he’d been gone forced him to come home different. George thinks if he knew what it was he could bring Matty back.

 

When he saw him standing frozen in the doorway to the bedroom, far off look in his eyes and limbs trembling slightly he froze too. As seconds ticked by in silence George couldn’t find it in him to straight up ask about it in fear of upsetting him any further. He beckoned him closer instead, and asked how his night had been but didn’t get an answer; all he got was a kiss, long and desperate, and an orgasm that came far too soon, hurried and flowing dully through him, leaving him more empty than sated.

 

Physical touch of any nature has always been a way of connection for the two, ever since their school years, not just physically but also emotionally; not this time however. George remembers it feeling like a wall rising between them, sky high and solid, and Matty was the one to put it there.  Now, much as George may try he can’t make him take it down and it feels like he is slowly losing Matty but he doesn’t have the courage to voice this, especially not to him, and he doesn’t have the strength to do anything about it either. He fears that if he does Matty is going to disappear, not literally but in a way that will be ten times more painful to him.

 

He can’t help but pray to a God he doesn’t believe in that Matty will eventually open up to him, trust him with whatever’s put him in that state of mind. At the same time he wishes he never gets to find out, just so they can keep pretending.

 

He takes one last drag of his cigarette and flicks it on the pavement. He shoves his hands deep in his pockets seeking for warmth and looks up to the shadowy figures standing near the brick wall of a building. Their voices echo in the quiet night air; George can’t make out their words but the noise they’re making is drawing him in. He doesn’t know them – they are too young, drunk and high if he had to guess, but they remind him of the four of them knocking about in Manchester, eighteen and freshly out of their shitty little town. He suddenly gets this urge to walk up to them, not with a plan as to what he would do after that, he supposes he just wants to travel back in time, when everything used to be simpler, but he can’t; he is at his block now, less than ten minutes before he reaches his flat.

 

With every step closer to his building, to his flat, a voice inside his head is becoming louder, chanting the mantra

 

_Please be naked, please be naked, please be naked._

 

George hadn’t realised it was there, but as he crosses the threshold of the lobby he is certain it’s been resonating against the walls of his head all night, and it makes sense, of course it does – to him – and perhaps it would to Matty too if he was to explain, perhaps he would even use it in one of those poems of his. George, himself, can tell why it would potentially intrigue him, and George is certain that he would find it _beautiful_ if he was to read it on Matty’s notebook but right now he can’t help but _hate_ the juxtaposition that is the meanings those three simple words hold.

 

Three simple words that translate into prays for Matty to be waiting in there for him naked, mentally as much as emotionally, open, without any walls keeping George at a distance, and Matty will tell him what’s been going on, the truth, pour his heart out to him so George can understand, so perhaps he can help, if Matty lets him. Three simple words that also project that part of himself, the cowardly one that wants Matty naked, bare of his clothes, on their bed waiting for him, so they don’t have to talk, so they don’t have to pop the bubble of false happiness they’ve been living in, so they can get lost in flesh, in each other tonight – and for every night to come.

 

Realistically when George twists the key in the lock and walks inside the flat, Matty isn’t naked in any of those senses; he’s in his pyjamas, curled up on the couch with his phone, worrying at his bottom lip as he types away. He pops his head up when he hears George and smiles up at him, but it’s off like it always is these days.

 

“Hey,” Matty greets softly and sets his phone down next to him to give George his full attention as he makes his way into the dimply lit room. George doesn’t respond. He sheds his jacket and silently takes the spot next to him.

 

“What is it?” Matty cocks his head to the side and asks quietly when George doesn’t take his eyes off of him for some longs seconds that to Matty seem like eons, but George again doesn’t respond. He picks up a strand of curly hair and gently tucks it behind Matty’s ear. As his hand comes to cup Matty’s cheek he leans down to kiss him, all soft and warm but with a desperation that doesn’t go unnoticed by the smaller man.

 

“What’s wrong, George?” Matty pulls away to ask, his eyes flicker between George’s own as if looking for the answer.  George refrains to point that this is a question he should be asking. Instead, he shakes his head and pushes forward, connecting their lips again and deciding that he’d rather have Matty tonight, the truth can wait and maybe it’s come up at its own time when Matty is ready, when he is ready – and he isn’t tonight.

 

“I love you,” he murmurs against Matty’s mouth, because Matty needs to know that he does, no matter what, despite everything that’s been going on and George is unaware of.

 

Matty sighs in response, and pulls away briefly to tug his shirt over his head and push his trousers and pants down with legs, baring himself to George, because perhaps George can’t understand Matty but Matty gets him.

**Author's Note:**

> hello there, wow i haven't posted anything in so so long i am so sorry. 
> 
> this is the first the 1975 story i write so bear with me if this is shit. this is actually part of a chapter of a bigger thing i have in the making which i don't know when is going to be ready, if ever so have this in case you never get to see the full finished thing. 
> 
> there's a lot of build up to this in the story but i had this on my phone and edited it tonight and thought it would be good enough as a one-shot. hope i was right?
> 
> out of curiosity, is there anyone here who has read my other stuff? (not the 1975 related)
> 
> hope you enjoyed this xxx


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